


Braid

by gisho



Category: GetBackers
Genre: Three-way Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:20:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5281811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gisho/pseuds/gisho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sakura, Emishi, Makubex, and how they slowly entwined their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Begun for the now defunct "3_measures" theme community on LiveJournal. Someday I may even finish it.

He wakes up to the gentle noise of an alert chime and the strident voice of Emishi, an octave too high in its startlement. "I didn't do anything! Absolutely nothing! I wasn't even thinking of touching - " The blanket falls from his shoulders as he sits up, and the memories of - not a dream, never a dream, but the sleeping sense of something warm and comfortable that was really probably just the blanket, because Sakura had put it there when he fell asleep - fade into wakefulness. One screen is lit up.

"Nonsense," he tells Emishi, "you didn't do anything," and takes the keyboard. It it not where he left it. He wonders what Emishi did. In all probability, it had no effect. If it was important, he will be told; Emishi will not keep something that could be dangerous from him, and his understanding of the computer systems is patchy at best; Makubex explains things to him piece by piece, but that is all. He is surprised to see that the alarm is due to someone trying to get into the perimeter. The general location of his building he has never kept particularly secret, but he makes a point of keeping himself at the center of a labyrinth, and changing it frequently; the paths that are continuous will open only to a few. "See?" He pulls up the camera, and it shows the image of a man in a red vest with a tail of greasy hair hanging down his back. He carries a length of broken wood, and is attempting to pry open the door. His motions are not the motions of a determined intruder. He moves like an automoton, or a man too tired to do anything but the same thing over and over again.

Emishi leans on Makubex's shoulder, breath warm against the boy's ear. "Who's that?"

"I don't recognize him," Makubex says, although he does recognize one of the symbols on the vest, the emblem of a gang he broke up shortly after coming to power; some of them fled, he recalls, and he did not chase them. They were as much ghosts out there as they would be in here, dead, for the outside world is the land of shadows, the place that does not truly exist. This is what he told himself, and still does sometimes. "He won't get in. It's nothing to worry about."

Threat-assesment, he tells himself, not just threat-detection, would be useful even here at the highest level of security. Then he could get his sleep, if he wanted it, and Emishi could do as he pleased.

"Oh." Emishi sits back, and adopts an expression of thoughtful mischief that he has doubtless been practicing in private with a mirror. "So I don't have to go get rid of him, right? I can stay here!" The delight in these words is entirely out of proportion, in Makubex's estimation, to the actual attractiveness of the prospect.

"Yes. Did you want something, or were you just dropping by to be difficult?"

Emishi grins. It's the nice grin, the one that Emishi thinks Makubex can't tell from the trying-to-be-nice-while-really-wanting-to-kill-something grin. "I found this," he announces, and produces from behind his back a small, worn, stuffed bat. "I asked all the kids if it was theirs and they all said no, I mean, obviously it was someone's, but it's not like most people see the true cuddliness in something like this, so I thought I'd bring it here where it could get the affection it deserves!" He finsihes the speech with a flourish and drops the bat in Makubex's lap.

His plan, on reflection, was probably something clever involving the bat, the keyboard, and some string, so it would swoop out unexpectedly at the wrong moment. Makubex picks it up and holds it close to his chest, tenatively. It's suprisingly accurate in the wing structure. It must have come from outside. Who would make a stuffed bat? "Thank you," he says, and it occurs to him to wonder if, or perhaps hope against, Emishi has ever been in the room where Makubex sometimes sleeps, and noticed the teddy bear. Or the pink blanket. At least he knows he wasn't responsible for the pink blanket. It was a gift from Sakura, and it was patched and rewoven, worn thin and soft and comfortable.

"Aww, Makubex-kun! I knew you'd like it!" Emishi, to Makubex's utter surprise, hugs him. It shouldn't suprise him; Emishi is quite physically affectionate, a trait that has only become more intense as time passes. On the screen the man has given up the motions of prying at the door with his scrap of board and has turned away, fled, back into the night with no hint of his motive or his plans. Nothing serious, or he would have been spotted long before. He won't be coming back, not in the state he so clearly is in. He won't last long, inside or Outside. Makubex closes his eyes against the overwhelming darkness.

The screen, untouched, flickers off, and the only lights are the LEDs that announce to anyone who cares to watch that the computers are on, and working, and accessing data, doing calculations, sending their signals out across the wires. This room is like a microcosm of the Castle; the rest of the Castle might as well be as unreal here as the rest of the world is inside the Castle, for only the images enter, showing up blindingly bright against the dark.

Makubex remembers a bouquet of flowers that Emishi gave to Sakura once, which she had kept in an old flour jar for weeks, until the petals fell wilted on the floor and let out the sweet smell of death. He hugs back.

\--


	2. Chapter 2

She is there when he wakes up and the silence takes a while to make its way into his conciousness. He cannot move his arms, and he discovers the blanket is tucked snugly around his body, as tight as her shawl wraps around the enemies she vanquishes for him. He shifts, trying to free himself, but cannot.

Her hands are wound through his hair and he does not want to move, so he makes a noise in the back of his throat, and rather than loosen the blanket and free him she whispers, "Shhhhh," and pulls it tighter. It takes him a moment to realize he is not terrified. Sakura would not hurt him.

"It's a storm outside," she says. "You can almost hear it if you don't make any noise."

Rather than try to move again Makubex waits, holding his breath, and after a few moments the echoes of her words and his own breathing finish fading out and he can, distantly, hear the noise of rain against metal and concrete and then, suddenly, a roll of thunder. When the echoes have died away again he whispers, "How long?" When he fell asleep, he was sure, the sun had only just set - it hadn't been raining then already, surely?

"About an hour." Sakura's hand stills in his hair, and the blanket goes limp around his shoulders. "Emishi dropped by," she said absently. "He brought some sushi, if you want dinner."

"Maybe later," Makubex says automatically - he can't remember whether he's eaten yet today, but it matters more to Sakura than to him whether he eats. She worries about him.

So does Emishi. He hates to see it, and so he tries, honestly tries, to remember to do things like eat something every day, even if only a chocolate bar, and sleep whenever he is tired enough not to dream. In his more childish moments he is inclined to believe it is a conspiracy between the two of them, that they not only have the same goals, but have discussed strategies, agreed on ways to bolster each other's attempts. It's a foolish idea and unworthy of him, though.

He sits up at last, pushing the blanket aside, and his eyes automatically go to the screens of his computers. There is nothing out of the ordinary. Out of old habit he pulls up a few cameras, and notes that the streets are deserted; the storm has driven everyone inside. It will last for a while. There is nothing to worry about, for a few hours. "Sakura," he says. "Have you ever been outside in a rainstorm?"

"A few times. It's not unpleasant, in summer." Of course, it is winter now. "Haven't you?"

Makubex shakes his head and leans against her. "I can't stand the idea of getting wet," he tells her. "And in here, there's always someplace to duck under and wait."

Sakura's arms wrapped around him just as the blanket had, as tightly and inexoribly, and he made as little resistance. He wonders whether he should be disturbed that he finds it so easy and comfortable to submit to her. But perhaps he should not, under the circumstances. She has known him for years, since the days of the Thunder Emperor, and not once in all those years has he had cause to doubt her loyalty.

There is a rumble of thunder somewhere nearby, and Makubex smiles and closes his eyes to better hear the rain against the walls and the steady beats of her heart.

\--


	3. Chapter 3

They probably think he's asleep. He won't wake up and interrupt them. This is relevant, he tells himself, and besides it would be a worse intrusion to excuse himself than to stay quiet. If they don't know he's there, he isn't. "It's sweet of you, really," Sakura is saying. Quietly, so as not to wake him up.

Emishi giggles - not chuckles, giggles, and only Emishi could get away with that - and there's a ruffled noise. "The least I could do for the most beautiful woman in Mugenjou," he says. "And besides, you never know. Someday perhaps you'll discover you're not immune to my charm! Most people are," he adds hopelessly, "but maybe you're not."

An uncomfortable moment of silence. "You do know I'm spoken for, right?" Sakura offers, with the air of one prodding at a bruise to see if it hurts.

" ... no. No, I didn't. So who's the lucky man?"

Makubex wonders if Emishi is being deliberately obtuse, or if he truly did not suspect. Emishi had given the impression of being nearly as good as Makubex himself at reading people. For him not to have noticed - not that there had been much outward sign, but still - is unusual to the point of absurdity. He's playing it up. He must be.

"Makubex, of course," says Sakura, and by her voice she is as confused as he. "I thought you knew that."

"Ah, Sakura-chan, how could I suspect? You havn't exactly been shouting it from the rooftops. And the way you act around him is the exact same way you've acted since you were - hold on. How long has this been going on?" Makubex blushes and pulls up the blanket to hide it; he knows what the continuation of that sentence would have been.

Emishi has a pecuiliar gift of missing what's right beneath his nose at times; perhaps this is only an example of that. He knows them too well. And they acted like lovers, at times, the subtle things - he would rest his head on her shoulder, or run a hand through her hair, absently, as he used the other to type or gesture, or she would sit slightly too close and from time to time put her hand on his knee - but they had done that for years. They had done it since the days of the Volts, when sometimes he would work quietly on his laptop and she would sit beside him and watch him work, and eventually he would fall asleep in her lap. The amazing thing is that Emishi had not assumed it before.

Sakura bows her head. "Half a year," she says. Makubex almost winces at that. Emishi is capable of subtraction as well as anyone. Seven months ago now was IL. It sickens him to remember it. It is no wonder that it was shortly afterward Sakura took what had long been hers for the asking.

Emishi's silent for a while, and when he begins to speak again, his voice is almost serious. "You know, that's good. It'll be good for him, if you're ... He smiles more when you're around, you know that?" Makubex didn't, and he resolves to stop; it's foolish to display such a weakness.

Sakura's answer is even, calm, as always. "I know. I try to keep him happy. But it's difficult."

"Feh." Emishi is back to his casual irreverence again, the voice that makes terrible puns at innapropriate moments and never lets an opportunity go by to make someone laugh. "The two of you are exactly alike. He runs himself ragged trying to take care of everyone, you run yourself ragged trying to make sure he takes care of himself, and then picking up the slack when he collapses from overwork." Slander, utter slander. Makubex has never _once_ collapsed from overwork - he's never collapsed where Emishi could have seen it anyway - he cathces himself; this is exactly the sort of reaction that remark was meant as bait too, and only his feigned slumber has saved him from a confrontation. Weak, undisciplined, far too thoughtless.

The first time he collapsed was alone, in front of his computers two years ago; he had suddenly found himself going numb and landed on the floor, fallen over for no reason he could name, without the will to rise again. He stayed there for most of an hour, screaming silently at himself to rise, watching his computers waiting for the next piece of input, yet somehow he had not been able too, and finally the dull flashes behind his eyes had merged into steady blackness and he had shook himself and risen, only to find that he had forgotten the last five minutes of his life. Only five minutes, but still it disturbed him intensely.

Sakura's soft laughter floats out across the room, and Makubex can bear it no longer and stirs, deliberately loud, dragging his boot across the floor. Even as he does it he curses himself for jealousy. Why shouldn't they have a few moments together, if they wish it? But the warmth between them only makes him feel colder. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "Oh, Emishi," he says in feigned suprise, doing his best to seem like a sleepy child.

Emishi, bless him, takes the bait. "Oh, I'm sorry," he declares instantly, "did we wake you up? I was just bringing this by for Sakura!" And beaming, he holds out a bracelet. It's really quite pretty, all blue and silver and where Emishi got it Makubex has no idea, although it's obviously handmade.

Impractical. It would get in the way of her typing.

"It's lovely," he says, and tries to sound like a joyful son instead of a jealous lover. She deserves better. She deserves someone who can see all the beauty she is made of, not only the aspects that are useful to him. "Go on, put it on."

\--


	4. Chapter 4

Emishi asked them to dinner with his family once. Makubex politely declined, making vauge and unconvincing (at least to Sakura) remarks about things he had to work on. So Sakura went alone, as he wished her to, although it did not seem quite fair.

Once upon a time Sakura had lived with her father and mother. They still lived, as far as she knew, although her mother had not been in the best of health when Sakura had last seen her and it was quite possible she had passed on. Sakura could not let herself mind this. Emishi's parents were dead and he knew it; he had watched them die. He was sorry for it, but he did not let it concern him overmuch. After all, the rest of his family was still there.

She offered to help prepare the food and was refused, by an old woman with eyes that still looked up to her, and that made her nervous. What did they think of her? She was, after all, one of Makubex's. So was Emishi, but he was family. Family was different. The children looked at her with open awe. Sakura tried to be humble, but humility was difficult in the face of such open admiration. Perhaps it was only appropriate that in this place full of strife they look up to one who had helped carve their little space full of peace; perhaps it was just as well that Makubex himself had stayed behind.

In Fuuga, they had appointed themselves defeneders of whoever deserved defending, but always they had held themselves above. Such was the way of things. Only for the four closest to her had she let herself fall into the role of the mother; someone had to, for behind the courage and valiant battles they were still children enough, all of them, to be afraid and alone. But for those who saw only the courage she displayed only her colder strengths.

Emishi at first tried to sit next to her but gallanty yielded his seat to a boy of no more than four, who had a wide grin and a tendency to eat with his fingers. She had to resist the tempation to pat him on the head. He was obviously proud of his spot, and boasted to her at length about his prowess at decapitating, crushing, and otherwise eliminating cockraoches. She agreed that he was very talented, and his grin got impossibly wider. When he got a little older, he said, Uncle Emi-han had promised to teach him how to use the dancing whip.

It was a good idea, Sakura agreed quietly, and tried not to think too hard about it. This was, after all, Mugenjou. Battle was a way of life, and this little clan that clung together so tightly had swung close to the edge of obliteration for lack of defenders before. Didn't she know? Hadn't she helped keep them safe before?

Afterward Emishi insisted on walking her back. He was smiling at everything, especially the bright full moon; Sakura wasn't suprised when his arm slipped around her waist. "A night like this," he declared, "really should be spent singing to the moon, don't you think?" She smiled and did not reply, and he shook his head ruefully. "Eh, but you probably have to get back. I won't inflict my singing on you." There was a moment of thoughtful silence. "Thanks for coming over."

Sakura took his face in her hands and kissed him, on each cheek. "You're welcome," she told him. He would understand. There was a lot that she wasn't saying, but for a few moments right now, they could ignore it all and watch the moon just as if they weren't watching it from inside a cage.

When she was alone again she took out an old box from underneath her spare blankets and unfolded the flag of Fuuga that lay there waiting for a day that she saw no reason ever would come again, and looked at it for a long while. Then she folded it away, and went to see if Makubex had waited for her.

\--


End file.
